Under the Mistletoe
by Sunnydaze
Summary: Ginny had been having a very bad day when she ran straight into a wall and broke her nose. While she was lying in a heap on the floor, who should find her but Draco?
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Well this much is obvious, Harry Potter etc. does not belong to me. If it did... well needless to say, Draco Malfoy would be running around in tight leather pants a little more often!  
  
**  
Under the Mistletoe**

_Chapter One_

"_Miss_ _Weasley_! Would you kindly explain to me what you are still doing in my classroom ten minutes after you were dismissed?"  
  
I jumped in my seat and lifted my head up off of my hand. "Wha-what?"  
  
Professor Snape, who had been standing over me with a murderous expression, gave a sneer worthy of the name Malfoy. "Run along now Weasley before I take off points."  
  
"Of course, Professor," I grabbed my satchel and scooped up my messy pile of parchment before scurrying out the door. I wanted to take advantage of Professor Snape's unusual leniency while it lasted- no use losing hard earned Gryffindor points over nothing. Perhaps Snape was secretly just as happy as his students about the forthcoming holiday break? I considered it and shook my head.  
  
Ginny Weasley, I scolded myself, that's just ridiculous! He's probably just pleased with the anticipation of seeing all the hearts that will break at the Yule Tide gala. Of course, that thought made me feel so miserable that I decided to take off at a sprint for the common room. Luckily, this was a free period for me.  
  
What would make a perfectly normal girl like me upset about a dance that was bound to be wonderful? Easily enough. I loved to wear pretty clothes and look pretty myself. I liked to dance and rather preferred the instrumental music traditionally played at the Yule Tide celebration. I didn't mind make up and the best thing in the world was to wear a fancy robe and feel like a princess. Unfortunately, none of my clothes had ever given me that royal feeling before. The majority was hand-me-downs from my six brothers and than the others were bought at cheap retail prices.  
  
_If I had only been a Malfoy_.... The idea had only just entered my mind before I shuttered. The very notion was disgusting! Wishing to be a Malfoy- pah! I lengthened my strides through the long corridors and there was a burning sensation in my legs. I wasn't much of a runner, it must be admitted. I preferred the activity of a couch potato. Because I was so angry at myself for even thinking about wanting to be someone other than a Weasley, I failed to notice the wall in front of me.  
  
Bang!  
  
I bounced back and landed with a crunch on the floor. My parchments flew into the air before fluttering around like pale yellow birds. The area where my nose was supposed to be stung and my nose itself didn't seem to be in the right place anymore. I hesitantly put my hand up, the sick knot in my stomach making me queasy. There was nothing there. Oh my gosh, I'd lost my nose! I flopped all the way down to the cold stone floor and wailed. I've never taken pain well.  
  
"Good Lord. Leave it to a Weasley to run straight into a wall and break her nose."   
  
From somewhere up above me came the familiar velvety drawl. I opened my eyes to see a blurred figure with hair a golden white and immensely amused grey eyes. Blinking rapidly cleared up the faded edges and I realized that indeed, it was my brother's mortal enemy standing beside me. He looked very far up from my position. My goodness, I hadn't realized Draco Malfoy was so tall!  
  
"I suppose I have to help you, don't I?" Draco continued. I would have nodded except that at the moment I was paralyzed with pain. "Because of course, if I left you, someone else would come along and you'd eventually regain your powers of speech. Upon which, you'd inform Professor Dumbledore that I'd left you to your own devices while suffering from an obviously broken nose. And that, on the whole, probably would not look so good to the Headmaster and I'd have detentions to last me the rest of the year."  
  
I groaned my agreement and managed to lift my arms even though it felt as if there were five ton weights pulling them down.  
  
"I have to carry you?" Draco raised an eyebrow. Helping me to stand up is all I'm asking, my psyche screamed. Unfortunately, Draco hadn't the ability to read my mind. "Well this is just getting ridiculous," he said to no one in particular while leaning towards the floor. In another minute he had scooped me up in his (rather muscular) arms. He wasn't stocky and buff like Charlie, gangly like Ron, or a toothpick like Harry still was. Instead, he had a pleasantly toned physique. He also smelled nicely too, a faint sniff of cinnamon from the candy drop he'd been sucking and the mixture of soap and cologne. It took a lot of self control to keep from sniffing his robes. Now that would have been embarrassing to explain!  
  
I decided to savor the feeling of Draco's arms around me as we headed to the infirmary. Perhaps I was feeling a little lightheaded- I must have been to enjoy having a Malfoy touching me. There was a good chance that I liked this because I knew there would never be another chance for me to bask in the scent of Draco. He tended to associate with classy and wealthy girls: ones with money, intelligence, and beauty. I would never even think of aspiring to that sort of thing. Wealth was a laughable sort of idea although I wasn't sure if a household where love was in abundance really wasn't better than all the money in the world. I rated an average intelligence, not excelling at anything in particular besides Muggle Studies- I had a genetic aptitude for that. I was a little too dreamy to pay attention in any class where I had the chance to fantasize about knights in shining armor. Lastly, I managed to be cute but I would never have the sort of classic beauty that surrounded a Malfoy.  
  
I sniffed, still settled comfortably in Draco's arms. I hadn't any idea why I was even considering being a Malfoy's girl anyhow. It was plan silly, that's what it was.  
  
We arrived in Madame Pomfrey's domain altogether too soon for my state of mind. Madame rushed at us immediately.  
  
"Oh good heavens!" she cried, bustling around in her tidy white uniform. "What in the world happened, Ms. Weasley?" She effectively took over, leading Draco over to a hospital bed where he carelessly placed me. I winced at the sudden impact of the soft bed and managed a glare at Malfoy before curling up on my side. He smirked, once again amusement in his eyes.  
  
"I'll expect you to say thank you when you're better," he informed me softly. His heavy black robes swished as he turned and went out the door. He paused for a moment and then swept a bow, showing of a glimpse of a cotton shirt and a silver and green neck tie. He continued on his way.  
  
I sighed. Next to me, Madame Pomfrey sighed too. Okay, that's odd, I decided. She returned her gaze to me and held out a glass of a particularly foul looking potion.  
  
"Drink up now, dear," she said. She looked back to where Draco had exited. "Gentlemen are a dying breed these days."  
  
I choked as I tried to inhale the slop without letting myself taste it. Correct me if I'm wrong but sixty-something year old matrons should not sound as if they had crushes on seventeen year old boys. Ew.  
  
Besides, that was my job. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Under the Mistletoe**  
_  
Chapter Two_  
  
"I wouldn't even attempt it," Madame Pomfrey stated firmly, standing at the foot of my bed like a hawk. The infirmary was pleasantly warm, unlike the drafty corridors, so why I was even attempting to leave at all seemed kind of foolish even to me. However five hours, even in a cozy place, was a long time to feel incredibly bored. Of course, I had slept the majority of the time but that was beside the point because I had had some very interesting dreams about one Draco Malfoy. If Ron even heard that I had talked to Malfoy without being in his presence, he would probably claw his own eyes out. I had the feeling that Ron would enjoy eating Malfoy alive, as cannibalistic as it sounds. I daren't even think about what would happen if he saw the two of us doing what we were doing in my dreams. I'd just have to shudder and close my eyes.  
  
Most of all, and the one reason that really counts, Draco Malfoy will probably never speak to me again; unless, of course, it's something mocking about smashing into walls. Or perhaps a reference to my everlasting crush on "the" Harry Potter; the git (and I'm discussing Draco here) still didn't realize that I had long since moved past Harry and onto someone else. But naturally, Malfoy wouldn't notice anything about me because I am a Weasley. So Ron's sanity and Malfoy's life will always be safe. If only I didn't dislike the idea so much....  
  
"Please, Madame P?" I pleaded, kicking away the down comforter. "I have homework to do and my brother will be worried!" The nurse's eyes narrowed; she had collected lots of 'fond' memories of Ron through the years, especially during Harry's numerous stays in the hospital wing.  
  
"Alright," she consented grudgingly. "You'll have a couple of shiners by tomorrow morning. Other than that you're completely healed and free to go. Here's a cream to keep down the swelling and- try to keep out of the way of the walls this time, won't you Ms. Weasley?"  
  
"Yes!" I exclaimed in glee, hopping from the bed instantly. The stones on the floor were freezing so I quickly slid my feet back into my scuffed sneakers. I grabbed the tub of cream. At the door I turned, "Thanks Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"Any time, Weasley," she sighed and returned to a cabinet that she had been organizing ten minutes ago. This was before I had started pestering her to let me go.  
  
I silently thanked the fates that kept the hallways clear as I trotted back to the Gryffindor common room. I hadn't had a chance to check my appearance yet and there was no way I was going to let just any creature in a robe see me and my recently disfigured face. They might carry the information back to Ron and he'd go on a rampage before I had a chance to tell him what REALLY happened... speaking of what _really_ happened I needed to think of a story to tell. It wasn't as if I really wanted to walk around the school advertising how silly. How many people do you know that run into walls? Only the special ones, I bet.  
  
"Hello Harry," I said, climbing through the portrait hole. Harry jumped and turned from the table he was sitting at. I was very good at my sixth sense- once I met a person I was always capable of telling where they were. I had some limitations though, first I had to touch them (shake hands and all that nonsense) and I couldn't sense them past a one mile radius. I rather liked meeting new people; everyone has a different scent. Sometimes they are icy and remote like the winds over Antarctica, sometimes they're tropical and infused with fruit blends, and there were many more. It was too bad I couldn't sense Malfoy. I'd never actually touched him skin to skin. My, that sounds scandalous! What's more, I wouldn't mind at all touching him "skin to skin".... My mind is sick, absolutely revolting.  
  
" 'lo Ginny," Harry sighed, running his hand through his messy hair. Two years ago and just this action alone would cause me to become a melted puddle of goo. Luckily, I was passed that stage. Harry and I maintained a rather friendship of sorts. "Where you been?"  
  
"Infirmary," I answered offhandedly. Harry shot me a sharp glance but I shrugged it off. No use explaining now, I hadn't figured out my story yet. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"  
  
"Sure," Harry answered with his own shrug. He flashed a roguish smile. "Yet for some reason, I don't really feel like hurrying off to Divination. Guess I'm not in much of a mood to hear my death foretold for the ten millionth time. Besides, Ron's skiving off class too and shagging Hermione in a corner. I'm not about to visit the batty Trelawney by myself."  
  
"Ew," I wrinkled my nose. "I hate to tell you this since we have a very open relationship, but there are some things I'd rather not know." For instance, that my older brother was busy shagging my friend. That's just disgusting and provides mental images that are sure to scar me for life.  
  
"I'll be sure to remember that next time," Harry laughed. "For now, I have to get back to depicting some gruesome deaths."  
  
"Okay, need any help?"  
  
"Nope, I'm fine." Harry was turning back to his parchment now. "Thanks anyway."  
  
"No problem," I said and dashed for the stairs. I wanted to get out of the common room before Harry remembered that he hadn't found out the reason I was in the infirmary. Pity the staircase to the dormitories was so long!  
  
"Wait, Ginny-" Harry called and I knew he had remembered. I slammed the door to the dormitory and panted. I faintly heard the sound of a chair crashing and a shout of 'Bloody hell!' Harry had probably tilted back in his chair too far. He had a tendency to do that. At least it would distract him for now.  
  
Disclaimer: I borrowed the touch/feel thing from Anne McCaffrey and Tamora Pierce who each had a version in some of their novels. And as always, Harry Potter etc. don't belong to me. If only it did....!


	3. Chapter Three

**Under the Mistletoe**  
_  
Chapter Three  
_  
  
Standing in front of the mirror, I examined the purple and blue pouches that had begun to surround my eyes. Two black eyes. Oh, wasn't this just nifty!  
  
"You look awful, dearie," the mirror said comfortingly. I grumbled. How I managed to get black eyes, I didn't know. It wasn't as if I hit the wall on an angle. My surprise alone at the bruises should tell you exactly how much I know about medicinal things: absolutely nothing.  
  
"Thanks," I answered with a frown. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."   
  
Back to those dastardly eyes. The cream hadn't done its duty yet and it would take a bunch of make-up to cover it all up or some tricky complexion spell. Unfortunately, my skin was sensitive so I didn't usually wear make-up. None of my friends had skin as light as mine either so that hope was gone. Not to mention the fact that if my best friend, Colin Creevy, had make-up I'd be severely disturbed. The last time I had tried to use a spell on myself for vanity, I'd ended up with green freckles for a month (those specks on my nose were here to stay). There wasn't anything I could really do than to go downstairs and confess to everyone that I had run into a wall. This wasn't something I was looking forward to.  
  
I gloomily turned to my dresser and began to dig around in my dresser for a sweater. The common room was undoubtedly nice and toasty but upstairs it was freezing. Not to mention, when I made the rounds later this evening to pick up the work I had missed it was going to be cold.  
  
I pulled out a violet sweater that my mother had knit for me last holiday with a large 'G' in the middle. Next to it was my sorry excuse for a dress robe. I felt bad thinking it since my family didn't have the finances to get me a new, pretty robe. After all, it wasn't as if I was Ron. He had that girly robe, heh!  
  
Mum had done her best, shopping around just about everywhere for the robe. It wasn't as bad as the other possibility that was for sure. The golden-brown matched the 'G' on the sweater I was wearing. The rent in the hem had been carefully mended and the sash was new but... I couldn't help but feel envious as all the other girls flipped through their magazines, popping bubble gum, and choosing whichever robe they desired- no matter how expensive it was. Magda Crimmons had gone on all last night about how she was having her dress specially made in France. I would look shabby indeed next to her! (I made a mental note not to go to the Gala with her).  
  
After a glance at my watch, I thumped back down the stairs into the common room. It was empty since it was time for dinner. If I didn't show up at dinner after not being at lunch, Ron would have my head. He'd be demanding to know who I was snogging in between classes. Right. Like anyone was going to have a snog with Ron Weasley's little sister. They'd have to be mental. Either that, or have a death wish.  
  
"Where have you been, young lady?" Ron demanded, true to form, as I sat down at the Gryffindor table. I was situated between him and Colin. I debated whether I should ignore him and talk to Colin or not. Considering the way both of them were glaring at my eyes and thinking evil thoughts, I decided 'not'.  
  
"Ginny!" Hermione gasped. "What happened to you?" She and Ron had even stopped their game of footsie under the table. Now this was serious!  
  
"Oh nothing much," I said as reassuringly as I could. I took a sip of pumpkin juice and mumbled, "I just...er... ran into a wall today."  
  
"What?" Ron said leaning closer. "I didn't catch that one."  
  
I muttered it again.  
  
"Sorry, missed that one," Colin said. How many times was I going to have to repeat myself? I decided to go through the process one more time.   
  
"Oh hang on, you weren't speaking loud enough," Harry said from where he was seated across from me.  
  
"I SAID I RAN INTO A WALL!" I yelled. "OKAY?"  
  
What with my luck, I just had to shout this when there had been a momentary lull in conversation. Everyone at the Gryffindor had turned to stare. Heck! Practically everyone in the Hall was looking at me. I took a peek at the Slytherin table and saw that Draco had left off flirting with Pansy to grin at me. Yes, a Malfoy was grinning- not smirking, not sneering, but grinning. I was shocked too but decided not to think about it as I ducked my ruddy face under the table. Only the tips of my pink ears and a bit of the Weasley hair showed now.   
  
"Can we just drop it?" I hissed, as the blood ran to my head.  
  
"Er, sure," Ron said and he patted my shoulders awkwardly.  
  
"Do you want me to pass you food under the table, Miss Blue and Black and Pink-All-Over?" Colin asked cheerfully. He was enjoying my humiliation entirely too much, I decided, and gave him a whack on his bony knee.  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Serves you right," I snapped thickly. It was inevitable; I was going to have to move above the table unless I wanted my head to explode. I returned above-table and shook out my hair. The majority of the Hall had returned to eating their food and their own conversations but Draco had traded his grin for a more traditional Malfoy smirk.   
  
Author's Note: Yes, Ginny is a little clumsy in this story. Chalk it up to me spending too much time in the realm of Sailor Moon and the ever- clumsy Usagi/Serena. If it bothers any one, remember how Ginny would put her elbow in the butter around Harry etc. Just think of it being an integral part of her personality, not just because she had a vile crush on that Potter kid, whatever his name was ;-)


End file.
